


Bunking Down

by PhantomProducer



Series: A Call to Arms [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/OC, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Hurt Steve Rogers, I'm gutter trash, Missionary Position, NSFW, One Shot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shameless Smut, Smut, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, but not really, just bruises, with some adjustments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomProducer/pseuds/PhantomProducer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the Battle of Sokovia, all Steve Rogers wants is his fiancee, Holly Martin. Good thing she's already there, and ready to accommodate.<br/>Set during the FF.net story, <em>The Eleventh Hour</em>. Set near the end of Ch. 29. One-shot.<br/>Prompted by <strong>annieareyouok</strong> to get off my ass and get this written already. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bunking Down

**Author's Note:**

> Another level of shameless Cap/Holly partnering, brought to you by me.  
> As always, there is a backstory to this: the Battle of Sokovia has gone down, with some minor alterations. At the end of it, and after helping the grounded Sokovians find shelter, Steve returns to the helicarrier, where his fiancee is waiting for him. Through some of her own efforts, and her own folly, she too was enlisted to help with rescue and relief efforts. Together again after the whole mess with Ultron has gone down, and after working through some of their own issues, all they want is each other.  
> I own nothing of the MCU, just the OC, Holly Martin. You can read about her relationship with Steve Rogers, and experiences with the other Avengers over on FF.net under the same username I have here.

It wasn't that Steve necessarily needed any help removing his uniform. However, when the offer came at the hands of a pretty brunette, wearing his shirt and her dark brown eyes dilating with want and need of him, who was he to say no? When the neck piece was unfastened, she helped him tug off his fingerless gauntlets, dropping them to the floor in haste to begin work on the armor shielding him. The hidden seams were tricky to find, but Holly only needed a little nudging here and there to locate them. With everything undone and loosened, he finished the work himself, tugging both the outer layer and the compression shirt off on his own. A muted grunt tore out of his throat as he did so, but what truly caught his attention was the gasp that came from her. Quirking an eyebrow, he wondered what the matter was as his fingers paused on his belt. Her eyes were locked onto his torso, staring, but not quite with the same lusty edge as before.  
  
“Holy crap, Steve,” Holly breathed, backing up a little when she saw the extent of the bruising on his chest and stomach. He frowned, glancing down at himself; it wasn't the first time he'd ended a battle that way. She knew that, too, but knowing did not always prepare one for the reality. Purple splotches decorated his torso liberally, though some already had the yellow-green tinge of healing around them.  
  
“They don't hurt,” he told her, flexing back his shoulders. One of the splotches, though, bit into him as he did that. It was a minor sting, but enough to make him notice. He winced and clarified, “...Too much.”  
  
She bit her lip, unsure now. She’d known he wouldn’t walk away from a battle with an automaton and his robot army without a scratch, but she did not know what extent the damage would go to. At that point, she was just so grateful that he was alive, her emotions overtook everything. Perhaps she should not push it, she thought.  
  
“Listen, if you don't want to...” Holly trailed off when he lifted an eyebrow at her. Her hands came up, as though she could banish the aroused upsurge between them, in the name of his recovery, and her eyes dropped. She couldn’t be selfish; he needed to get better, and what she had suggested earlier would not help in the least. “Well, I mean if you don't feel up for it, that's fine. Really, honestly. Don't feel like you have to—”  
  
Like she did to him before, Steve laid a finger over her lips, quieting her rambling. The digit moved down to her chin, tipping it up so that her gaze met his. There was no censure in his eyes, and she stifled a sigh.  
  
“Here,” he murmured, reaching down and taking her hands, guiding them up. Gently, he placed her palms on him, one over a bigger bruise on his side and another on his pectoral, over his heart. She would have pulled back if his hands weren't over hers; he could see how little she wished to hurt him more. Her hands were cool, feeling nice against the heat of his body, but did not cause any pain. “They're already healing; it's just bruises, that's all.”  
  
He took another step closer, closing the gap that had sprung up between them. The scent of soap lingered around her, her half-dried hair wafting it around as she shook her head. Inhaling deeply, he leaned in closer, the pads of his fingers running across her arms to link around her. Splaying his hands on her back, he moved them up and down, his gentle touch making her stay near.  
  
“I don't _have_ to do anything, Holly. I _want_ to make love to you,” he said, all but whispering his desires in her ear. His lips ghosted along her jaw, the bare brushes against her skin causing her to take a shuddering breath. Her hands moved, roaming around to the exposed flesh of his back, her dragging nails leaving a tingling trail. A shiver and groan wracked him, and his hips shifted against hers. “I want you...God, I want you.”  
  
After a living hell of four days, in which both of them were certain that the world was going to end and they would never see one another again, to say that Steve wanted Holly was an understatement. It was so much deeper than that, so much more.  
  
“Steve...” she replied, the tone not as firm as she would have liked. Any further comments were stemmed by his lips claiming hers, by the soft sweep of his tongue along the seam. With her opening up to him, he slipped it in deftly, tracing the roof of her mouth and swallowing her moan as she ran hers along his. No, no, she should hold to her resolve, she chided herself. She should…  
  
His hands slid down her back then, down to her bottom. Squeezing, he made her rise onto the balls of her feet, bringing her body fully against his as she looped her arms around his shoulders to keep balance. Nipping at her lower lip, he shifted his pelvis, the press of his hardness obvious. Her thighs twitched, the heat pooling between her legs intensifying.  
  
Pulling back to catch her breath, she saw how dark his gaze had become with arousal. And she knew, without a doubt, that hers were as far gone as his.  
  
“So I'll just have to be careful, then,” she squeaked, his delighted, feral grin returning at her capitulation. For a moment.  
  
“Same goes for me with you,” he intoned quietly, dipping his chin down at her leg. The cloth brace around her knee was hard to miss, as well as the bruises ringing it, a product of her attempts to help the rescue efforts. She must have slammed it fairly hard when she tripped earlier, and given how she was attempting to shift weight to her uninjured one, he could see she couldn’t be kept upright for much longer. He frowned slightly. “You probably shouldn't even be on your feet right now.”  
  
A corner of her mouth lifted at that. “Are you ordering bed rest, Captain?”  
  
He smirked, eyes becoming hooded. “For both of us, until morning.”  
  
“You'd better shower, then. Get that grease and oil off of you.”  
  
Steve threaded a hand through his hair, the blond strands a little matted due to the sticky substances in it. Withdrawing it, he saw the dull brown liquid staining his fingers, mixing with gritty dirt. Though his face had been cleaned up, for the most part, when he was treated earlier in the infirmary, he did not have the time to get everything else cleaned up. He pulled a face at the mess—well, until he shot a sly glance sideways at his fiancée.  
  
“You don't think it'll help?” he asked, his tone a shade too innocent to be taken seriously. Snickering, Holly stepped back from him and tipped her head to the side.  
  
“Just go,” she said, propelling him towards the private facilities with a swat on his backside. The playful growl he cast over his shoulder at her shot a thrill through her body.  
  
Steve tried to make the shower as short as he possibly could, his lower armor, belt pack, and boots flung outside the bathroom door swiftly before stepping under the cold spray. Any heat obtained from the intimacy before was driven away, a hoarse groan ripping out of him. Vigorously, he scrubbed all over, his body shaking by the time he felt he’d gotten all the dirt and grease off of him. Every nerve ending seemed to be on pins and needles, sensitivity increased by the cold. The air bit into him when he exited the small cubicle, the towel left for him on the sink a godsend in that moment. A frustrated hum of resentment rumbled in his chest, cursing the helicarrier for the lack of warmth.  
  
Drying off, Steve felt his jaw set in annoyance as he exited the bathroom, wrapping the towel around his waist. His boxers were left on the floor, abandoned in haste like his other garments. Stepping into the main area of the room, he was pulled up short by the line of Holly's bare back, the borrowed shirt she had been wearing already lying on the floor by the bed. She was twisted away, hands working beneath the sheets swathed around her hips. Viewing that, his annoyance vanished after a few seconds. She gave a small cry of delight as she succeeded with something. About to ask what she'd done, his tongue stilled when she withdrew her hand, the balled-up panties dangling from her fingers. Tossing them away, she turned in time to see that stray shiver traveling down his body, the hand holding the towel around him fisting hard against his hip. Smiling wolfishly, Holly completed the turn, giggling silently as his gaze dropped to her breasts. Wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, he still said nothing.  
  
“That was fast. Not surprising; the shower sucks,” she remarked, dark eyes lowering coyly as she trailed a finger over the bed sheets. Her shoulders gave a mock shake, and she could practically feel his eyes narrow in again. “Way too freakin' cold.”  
  
Glancing up, she watched his mouth twist into a frown, nodding at the truth of the statement. Shuffling backward, she made room for him, turning back the sheets and smirking up at him under hooded lids.  
  
“Come get warm, baby,” she invited, pulling the blankets back a bit more and exposing what had been hidden from sight. No further prompting was needed; hunger was painted all over Steve's face as he stepped up to the bed, letting the towel slip from his hips to the ground. Her own hunger and desire surged as she raked her gaze across his form, skittering over his bruises to the undamaged parts. Climbing in, he immediately slid over her, his weight welcome though his skin was chilled. It was her turn to shiver, just from mere contact, her palms coasting over his arms and shoulders, down his back in an effort to warm him up like she'd promised. Coolness was replaced by heat, sparking faster along their veins they satisfied their mutual need to be close and touch each other. Propped up on one elbow, his fingers outlined the curves of her hips, stomach, breasts, thumb sweeping over a nipple and joined by the forefinger to pluck and roll it before moving onto the other. Mewling in appreciation of his attentions, concern bubbled up through the haze, and she could not stop herself from voicing it.  
  
“You sure about this?” she asked once more, her touch trailing gently over his chest and stomach, brushing his navel.  
  
“Yes,” he murmured against her lips, too overcome with his want to pull away. Sighing into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer. When it deepened, his hips rolled, hardness brushing over her wetness and making her gasp. Aloud, he pulled back and reaffirmed, “Yes.”  
  
Mouths and hands wandered over each other's bodies, warmth turning hot as teeth and tongues touched skin and tingling touches burned where they pressed. Being alive, being together, was the most potent aphrodisiac they had at their disposal, and they were employing it to the fullest extent. Well, more for Steve; Holly was holding true to her word, being as careful as she could be with him, focusing instead on parts of him that weren't splotched and bruised. Which still left her with enough to work with—his low, guttural groan when she nipped and sucked at the sensitive area along his neck told her he was still able to be enticed. And he certainly did his part with her, lavishing attention on her wherever he could reach.  
  
“Oh, Steve...” Holly cried when he pressed against her again, his penis hard against her slit. It would be so easy, just to let him in as he was, welcome into her slick passage without any coverings. It was getting increasingly difficult to think, what with him licking and sucking at her collarbone, but she knew she couldn't let herself get too far gone. Reaching down, she ran her fingers through her own wetness, using it as she curled her palm around him and shallowly pumped him a few times. Hips twitched and jerked, moans pouring out of his mouth and hot breath expelled across the skin of her chest. Blindly, Steve made to grab the single condom placed on the bedside table, swiping ineffectually for a few moments before he finally snatched it up. Opening the foil, he pulled her hand off of him long enough to get it positioned on the tip. Deftly, she swooped back in, rolling it down the rest of the way, languorous touches priming him further.  
  
Mindful of her injury, he knew that her normal response to his entry—wrapping her legs around him—would result in discomfort and pain the next morning. Instead, he came across a solution, one that he'd stumbled across on the Internet once. It hadn't been geared specifically towards a tweaked knee, but he wasn't about to give up on it. Hesitantly, his palm ran against her inner thigh, her breathy moan encouraging him to go on. Carefully, he pushed the braced leg out a little further than normal, widening and opening her up past the usual point. Taking the initiative, he fetched the free pillow that had been shoved to the side, propping it under her knee and elevating it. When he finished with that, his hand was braced firmly by her head, giving him some leverage. The other leg he took into the crook of his elbow, and as he slid himself inside her, he brought it up with him, plunging deep. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, her moan mingling with his.  
  
“This okay?” Steve wondered, breathing harshly and holding still to allow her to adjust. His eyes had shut tight as he moved within her.  
  
“God, yes,” Holly groaned, arching up and her walls tightening around him. The stretch, more than she was used to, made her curl her toes in pleasure. “ _Fuck_.”  
  
Thus inspired, he began to thrust, the deeper shift allowing him to run over the intimate, erogenous parts of her more easily. Her hand slid from his back into his hair, tugging him down for a kiss, licking the inside of his upper lip. Fire sprinted between their bodies, curses and praises tumbling out of their mouths in turn as he slid in and out, harder and deeper with each pass.  
  
“Feels so good,” he groaned as his tempo started to increase, mouthing the words along her jaw as he bent closer. “You always...you always...”  
  
The sentiment went unfinished, the ability to speak coherently being lost as pressure built. His grip tightened around the thigh he was supporting, her walls contracting more and more around him as he kept going. Though he'd ground against the area a few times with his pubic bone, Holly let her hand wander between them, fingers seeking her clit to stimulate it again. Rubbing at it in rhythm with Steve's bucking, she felt the string inside her winding tighter and tighter. He was pounding her into the stiff mattress, somehow making the bolted frame creak as he rocked her and the sound mixing with their groans and grunts. When his thrusts grew sloppier, she brushed the bundle of nerves rapidly, driving her pleasure up further even as he trapped her hand between them. She squirmed, the throb of him along her walls and the rotations of her own finger bringing her close to the edge.  
  
“'M gonna...gonna...” she mumbled, head thrown back and writhing underneath him. Nearly there, almost...  
  
“Uh-huh,” he drawled, pistoning even faster than before. Gasps rang in the air as his hips tilted, hitting the best parts of her a few more times. Dropping her leg down, with her foot planted in place on the mattress, he pushed her fingers out of the way with his own, the thicker, broader swipes shocking her and jolting her into ecstasy. Her throaty moan was followed soon after by his own, the sharp slamming of her walls around his twitching member pushing him past the brink and allowing him to let go. Breathing shakily, his bracing arm folded, his weight dropping onto it, keeping himself from smothering her. Slowly, as she started to come down from her orgasm, she let her leg lay flat again, shuddering as she did so. More shivers fluttered through her once he pulled out of her, the sheets shifting as he rolled onto his back and his large frame taking up the last bit of space on the bed.  
  
“You definitely made it count,” Holly told him, inhaling sharply between the words. Looking over at him, she saw that his eyes had closed, the goofy grin he was liable to get after their times together blooming.  
  
“I aim to please,” Steve responded, passing a hand over his sweaty forehead. Sliding a hand beneath the covers, he let out a muffled groan as he slid the condom off, tying it off and flicking it away to drop on the floor. Opening his eyes, he glanced at her, a flash of disappointment crossing his irises. “Too bad we only had the one.”  
  
Snickering, she threaded her fingers through her messy hair, dashing the sweat off her flushed skin next.  
  
“Probably was for the best,” she retorted, shrugging a shoulder at his inquisitive expression. Fetching the pillow from beneath her knee and handing it off to him, she sighed, “Got that lovely meeting to look forward to in the morning.”  
  
He snorted at that, dropping the pillow under his neck and crooking his arm behind his head. “Lest we forget.”  
  
Rolling onto her side, Holly propped herself up on her elbow, all jesting aside as she stared down at him. Her palm glided over his chest, coming to rest over his beating heart. The band of her claddagh settled against his skin, and she expelled a soft breath. A corner of his mouth turned up as he looked up at her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, brush the skin with his thumb. It moved to trace a path over her lips, which she puckered up to kiss the digit. Leaning over him, she felt his palm cradle her neck, her forehead resting against his and her eyes closing.  
  
“I love you,” she whispered, her throat thickened by the rush of adoration. “So much.”  
  
The upsurge hit him as well, making the timber of his voice deepen as he responded. “I love you, too.”  
  
After a moment or two, she pulled away, sitting up a little and coughing once. She blinked against the tears that threatened to rise, shaking her head at her ridiculousness. Rather, she just rolled her eyes and smirked down at her fiancé, tapping a finger on his pectoral.  
  
“Geez, we're a couple of cornballs, aren't we?” Holly muttered, grinning as Steve laughed. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his genuine smile brightened his face, brightened him. Her heart thudded in her chest to see it, made her so happy to see him that way.  
  
“Never said I wasn't,” he replied, sliding his hand up into her hair, drawing her down for a kiss. Nothing rushed, just slow and sweet, tasting and indulging in one another. It was a moment to just be, to be alive and with each other, before responsibilities and demands could invade again (before they executed the inevitable clean-up they had to perform after their act of passion). Just the two of them together, and they took it.


End file.
